That’s It

Some kind of Buick, left in a stream. It used to be somebody’s dream.
-Adrian Belew

Chandury walked from the office to the his aged Honda and propped the broken hatch with his shoulder while he set the box beside the others.

He let the hatch drop and stretched his sore back.

The motel looked about the same from the outside, but he knew it was an illusion. The long decay that came from amassed  deferred maintenance, guest complaints, refunds, vacancies.

The maids had been dismissed five years ago, the threadbare towels never replaced.

Bedbugs had been the final straw.

Friday Fictioneers

15 comments

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  1. Rowena

    This place is making Fawtly Towers look good. Sometimes people pick themselves up on the way down and give themselves a bit of a shake and turn things around. Unfortunately, some stay of that downwards trajectory until it’s too late to go back. They can only start over.
    Best wishes,
    Rowena

  2. Dale

    You’ve described this so well, Josh. I can just picture the inside to go with the outside. Time to give up the dream and move on…

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